


A Different Kind of Love

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [22]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s), Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the morning, Eishirou arrives with unfinished business for Byakuya to attend to.  They talk while Renji attempts to be unobtrusive....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Love

Byakuya woke to the ringing of his cell phone. He quickly grabbed it off the nightstand and flipped it open. Pulling his kimono closer around his shoulders, he flashed into the other room so as not to wake Renji. “Moshi, moshi,” he said.

The sound of Eishiro’s chuckle was tinny on the other end of the line, “You’re not fooling anyone with that, my lord. I’m fairly certain you _are_ a ghost.”

Though not a kitsune.... Byakuya briefly wondered if anyone had tried this simple trick on Ichimaru. With a shake of his head, he replied dryly, “Indeed, but I’m hardly interested in eating your soul, unless, of course, you simply called to irritate me, Eishirō.”

There was what sounded like an embarrassed silence stretching for a moment, and then Eishirō said, “I thought perhaps I should call ahead. I’m at the door. There’s a final bit of business for us to discuss, my lord, and I wanted to make sure you were… available.”

And not naked or in flagrante delicto. “I was asleep, but I may be persuaded to forgive your interruption,” Byakuya said ominously, “Provided you’ve brought tea.”

“And breakfast for you and the lieutenant.”

Eishirō really was a gem.

“More than acceptable,” Byakuya said with a smile. “You may enter.”

 

#

Renji woke up with a full bladder and a growling stomach, which reminded him that they’d skipped dinner last night and gone straight to sex. 

As he stumbled off to the bathroom, the smell of something savory coming from the main room caught his attention. He stopped, however, when he heard voices. It seemed Byakuya and Eishirō were discussing finances. Renji considered sticking his head in to say ‘hello,’ but he was not only naked as a jaybird, but also had to pee like a racehorse. Quietly, he slipped back to the bathroom.

Once he’d relieved himself, Renji finally eased out of the leather collar and cuffs he’d been wearing for over day and a half. The mirror’s reflection showed what Byakuya had been worried about was only a minor bruise on the side of his neck. It was turning brown and kind of ugly, but if he kept his hair down, no one would see it

Turning on the water in the shower, Renji jumped under the spray for a quick clean-up. Even though it was warm and soothing, he didn’t linger. Instead, he liberally soaped up and shampooed his hair. The hotel soap smelled faintly of lavender, not his favorite, but it’d do.

Stepping out, Renji tried on the hotel yukata and nearly ripped out the shoulders. He was far too big for it, so he set it back on its hanger behind the door. 

He finished his morning toiletries and trimmed up his sideburns. His hair was a mess. Of course, wet, it just clung to him like a thick mop, so he dragged a comb through it as best he could. Not having a bathrobe choice, he decided to just get dressed for the day. 

Back in the bedroom, he found the bag of clothes Rukia had brought him from the shōten. Some hunting turned up something appropriate for a Sunday. Since Byakuya might still want to do a museum, Renji put on jeans and a plain white tee-shirt. It would easily hide his tattoos. 

He decided to braid his hair and hold back the bits that wouldn’t fit with one of the blue and green tie-dye bandanas he’d found in the bag. It sort of went with his clothes and hair, and it would minimize the tattoo freakage when they went out in public.

The last thing he put on was the kenseikan shard necklace. Renji figured he ought to at least make a show of appreciating all that went into getting it back. And, honestly, he decided with one last check in the mirror as he passed the bathroom, it didn’t look half-bad on him.

Feeling pretty good, Renji started towards the main room confidently, but he found himself slowing at the sound of Eishirō’s voice. He’d sort of hoped Eishirō would have been gone by now. So, he paused just beyond the doorway, torn between residual embarrassment and a growling stomach.

Byakuya’s voice cut through his hesitation, “There’s food left for you, Renji. You should join us instead of skulking around the shadows.”

“Hai, Taicho,” he said automatically. He stepped out from behind the archway and gave Eishirō a little nod in greeting. 

Even here in the Human World, Eishirō managed to look like a servant. He knelt seiza on the floor quite a distance from where Byakuya sat similarly in front of the glass table, on which had been spread to-go containers of food. Eishirō had his own small box along with a Styrofoam cup of something, but it didn’t look like either had been touched. His long black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck as usual, and he wore black trousers and a white button down shirt and simple black tie. He could have passed as a maître d’ or the concierge. 

Renji sat down, cross-legged, on the floor between the couch and the table. He could feel heat reddening his cheeks, as he realized the bruise on his neck was facing Eishirō. He considered flipping his braid over to the other side to hide it, but that’d seem like he felt guilty or ashamed. Covering his awkwardness, Renji checked through the containers. There were tensumu--rice balls with tempura shrimp inside and wrapped in nori--and some udon with dried tofu that smelled pleasantly of ginger. Renji cocked his eyebrow at Eishirō, because he was pretty sure these kinds of noodles were called ‘tanuki udon.’ 

At Renji’s look, Eishirō nodded as though in acknowledgement, “I also brought you sweetened coffee, lieutenant.”

“Thanks,” Renji said. Finding it, his blush deepened, so he tore open the sippy hole busily. 

Byakuya sipped his tea and watched their exchange, a small smile playing on his lips. Renji glanced at him as he broke apart a pair of chopsticks. Was this part of what Byakuya got off on with the whole exhibition thing—watching people squirm afterwards? If so, Eishirō certainly wasn’t playing along. He was composed and as comfortable as he usually was in Byakuya’s presence.

Meanwhile, Renji figured he was making up for both of them with his blazing red cheeks and feeling like he’d like to curl up under the table. Not knowing what else to say or do, Renji stuffed rice balls in his mouth and tried not to wonder if Eishirō was picturing him on his knees sucking off Byakuya. Of course, thinking of that made him aware of his stuffed cheeks and Renji found it hard to swallow naturally.

Luckily, Eishirō seemed to focus on Byakuya as he continued their conversation, “When should I expect to gather my lordship’s entourage for the trip home?”

Entourage? Oh, right, there was a bodyguard somewhere, too, Renji remembered.

Byakuya pulled his fingers through his hair, thinking. “I must admit I’m not terribly anxious to leave.” When Byakuya’s hand fell beneath the table to squeeze Renji’s thigh, Renji nearly choked. Ignoring his coughing fit, Byakuya said, “However, perhaps we shall plan on late afternoon. I would still like to go to a museum.”

Renji took a long drink of coffee to clear his throat. “Yeah,” Renji agreed. “I’m still up for that.”

“Good,” Byakuya said. “I think I found a fun place for us.”

“I shall alert the staff that you’ll be home for a late dinner,” Eishirō said with a bow of his head. “They will be pleased to have you back again, my lord.”

Byakuya laughed lightly as if he didn’t quite believe it, but then he seemed to remember something. After taking a sip of tea, he said, “Ah, I take it Aunt Masama hasn’t departed yet.”

“No, my lord, the communiqué I received informed me that the Lady Kuchiki is expecting to stay for the duration of your search for a candidate.”

Man, that was going to suck for everyone in the Kuchiki household, Renji thought as he slurped noodles from the carton. He glanced over to see Byakuya suppress a small frown. 

Byakuya reached out with his chopsticks to take a mochi treat from a small container Renji hadn’t noticed. He asked, “I presume you will prefer to serve the new heir once he’s been invested?”

Eishirō’s head stayed bowed and he said evenly, “I will go where my lord commands me, but I have been very happy in service to this household.”

 _Barring all the funky sex games_ , Renji managed not to snort. To stop himself from saying anything stupid, he jammed more noodles into his mouth.

“I appreciate that, but you do realize, of course, that even though I’ll remain clan head the prestige of the house will be lessened significantly,” Byakuya said. “You won’t command nearly as many staff and I will be devoting far more time to the division.”

Eishirō glanced up. A small smile twitched on the edges of his lips. “Are you trying to get rid of me, my lord?”

“Not at all,” Byakuya said sincerely. He set his chopsticks down. “However, I wouldn’t like to hold back your family’s advancement or for you to be… uncomfortable. You see, I’m hoping after all of this is settled that I can convince Renji to live with me.”

Renji managed not to choke a second time, but only barely. “What? Like full-time?”

“If I may be so bold,” Eishiro said before Byakuya could answer, “I wonder why my lord thinks I would not be comfortable with such an arrangement?”

This question seemed to surprise Byakuya. He’d been turning to answer Renji, but his mouth closed and his attention swung to Eishirō. “You aren’t?”

Was Byakuya kidding? Renji knew Eishirō’d grown fond of him. Sure, it’d taken a while, but Renji’d known since sometime after the funeral kimono. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that there was full ‘approval.’ After all, the house steward knew about all their kinks. All about them.

Renji glanced over at Eishirō expectantly. 

“There’s _nothing_ my lord does that I disapprove of,” Eishirō said quite intently, and he met Byakuya’s gaze. 

Renji noticed the emphasis on the word ‘nothing.’ Byakuya seemed to as well, and his face grew a little pink. His hand gripped his tea tightly and his lashes fluttered downward. Finally, he said, “Perhaps I’ve inadvertently mistaken your opinion for that of your late wife’s.”

Late wife? Renji knew Eishirō was married. So, he’d had a previous marriage? Had he been a widower like Byakuya? Or… a divorce? Did people like Eishirō do that? Renji took a sip of his coffee and turned to see what Eishirō would say to this.

“Understandable, my lord,” Eishirō said with a little nod, and Renji got the sense they were talking about something really significant, but he had no idea what it was. “But Taji was far more opinionated about certain things than myself. She wasn’t raised among the nobility like I was. She came from a part of the Rukon that was very… provincial, conservative. She was also very fond of a certain young stable hand--perhaps, in retrospect, a little too fond.”

Stable hand? Over his coffee lid, Renji looked back at Byakuya. Was this about the stable hand that Byakuya had gotten caught with? Wait, was Eishirō saying it was _his wife_ who’d stumbled in on Byakuya and the stable boy doing the nasty with the whips and chains? Dear gods, was this whole ‘exhibition’ fetish part of some kind of desire on Byakuya’s part to ‘fix’ that moment?

Byakuya, meanwhile, seemed to be holding his breath.

Eishirō bowed all the way to the floor. “I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but I believe my Taji’s own guilt about her affection for your young man added to the… vehemence and vitriol you suffered. I’ve long been ashamed that my family was responsible for your punishment and exile.”

Punishment? Exile? Damn! Renji was glancing back and forth between the two like he was watching a ping-pong match.

Byakuya was clearly still hurt about whatever had happened, but he kept his chin up and his face stony. “Ultimately, it served to draw Senbonzakura and I closer,” he said after a moment. “And I can’t let you shoulder the burden for my mistakes. If there had not been other incidents, my family wouldn’t have been so quick to act.”

Other incidents? Renji’s eyes were wide and he sat perfectly still, hoping to remain inconspicuous.

“It’s not my place to say so, my lord,” Eishirō into the carpet, “But, I tried to counsel your grandfather to send you to Academy immediately after your accidental reiatsu burst. You were clearly a prodigy, but he seemed unable to see beyond the particulars of the situation. I think, too, he wished to keep you close to his side after losing both Lord Sōjun and Lady Joruri.”

“And he sought to correct the mistakes he felt he’d made with my father,” Byakuya voice full of more pain than Renji had ever heard. Of course, his tone was still mostly even, but it quavered noticeably. 

Renji was beginning to get the idea that maybe dear old grandpapa was a first-class asshole, especially the way Byakuya’s teeth had clenched over that word ‘correct.’

The accidental reiatsu burst must have been the lover Byakuya had pulverized when he’d tried to sub. Interesting that it seemed that Byakuya had gone into full-on dom-mode after failing so spectacularly at the other option, though Renji thought that made a kind of sense. 

Quietly, Eishirō said, “Your father was a joy, my lord. As you have always been.”

Renji was wondering just how long Eishirō had served the Kuchiki family when Byakuya sprang to his feet. He turned his back, making the black kimono swirl and the silver dragons shimmer. “Leave us.”

Whoa. What just happened? Had Eishirō said something wrong? 

Renji couldn’t figure it out until he saw the trembling in Byakuya’s hand as it closed into a fist. It wasn’t that Eishirō had screwed up, Renji realized. It was that he’d said everything right. Byakuya was feeling…

Yeah. No, just _feeling_.

Feeling too much for company.

“Right,” Renji said. Standing up, he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Let me show you out, huh?”

Wordlessly, Eishirō stood up and followed Renji through the maze of the penthouse. They walked through the kitchenette and conference room silently, but for their bare feet shuffling on the carpet. 

At the door, Renji pulled it open for Eishirō and said, “I guess you guys never talked about any of that before, eh?”

“How could we have?” Having been bent over to retrieve his shoes, Eishirō spared a glance at Renji. “Even this was far too forward of me. But, the Human World is a different place and I felt, perhaps, the timing was right. His lordship has softened tremendously under your influence. I think it helps that you…” Eishirō went back to stepping into his shoes as a blush broke on his face, “uh, that you share similar tastes.”

So, Eishirō thought it was a good thing that Byakuya finally got to release his inner kink, huh? Now there was a twist Renji wasn’t quite expecting. He chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I suppose it’s good to let that stuff out rather than repressing it, huh?”

“I do believe more repression is the very last thing Byakuya-sama needs,” Eishirō said, his face still hidden as he tied the laces carefully. “And you seem not only amenable, but also resilient. Though I worry to see you bruised, lieutenant.”

Renji waited for Eishirō to straighten up, before he said honestly, “I appreciate that, Eishirō. I really do. But, the way we play? There’s bound to be some marks the morning after.”

Eishirō nodded. He turned and pressed the down button on the elevator. Then, he glanced over his shoulder at Renji, “Since it seems to be my day for talking out of turn, may I say how pleased I am to hear you use the word ‘play?’ I was also made incredibly happy when you talked his lordship into attending the seminar at the shop. As you no doubt know, he ordered nearly everything from there, including all the pertinent books. He’s read so much on the subject in your absence that I suspect there will never be another setback like the one at the inn.”

Renji’s mouth hung open. Before he could form a better response than ‘holy shit, how much do you know about my private life, anyway?’ the door dinged open and Eishirō stepped through. 

As the doors closed in front of him, Eishirō said, “I trust you to take good care of him, Lieutenant.”

“Uh, I will,” Renji managed. 

When Renji made it back, Byakuya was still standing exactly where they’d left him. His back to was to the room and he seemed to be staring out the window at the busy city below. 

Renji figured he should probably say something, but he had no idea what. ‘Sorry your granddad was a dick and everyone got involved in your sex life and their stupid meddling caused you so much pain’ seemed inadequate, even if it was heart-felt and honest.

One thing Renji’d learned in Inuzuri was that some stuff was just too damn raw—like an open sore where even a gentle, well-meaning touch could send you straight through the roof. Even saying ‘sorry’ could piss people off when the pain was like that. So, Renji plunked himself down on the couch and quietly ate the last remaining tensumu. 

Several minutes passed. Renji had finished every last bite of leftover food, but he wasn’t quite satisfied. He was eyeing the container Eishirō had left behind on the floor and contemplating getting up and starting a pot of the hotel’s coffee as well, when Byakuya finally spoke. 

His voice was dead, lifeless as he continued to stare out at the streams of traffic pulsating beneath the tall buildings. “My grandfather convinced me that I was ill. He told me that these parts of me were broken and unredeemable and that only strength of will would make me a better man. I’d hurt so many people; I believed him. After the day I was discovered with the stable hand, I forbade myself to ever engage in such perversions again. I tried. I tried desperately, but the fantasies never left me, never failed to spark desire. Burying them only seemed to make them stronger. The only things that truly helped were Academy, Senbonzakura, and finally Hisana.”

Not for the first time, Renji wondered if Hisana had been trained in certain arts and if she’d figured out a way to satisfy what Byakuya craved. Renji still couldn’t quite picture it—Byakuya being rough with someone so delicate and frail? Nah, it didn’t seem his style. Maybe Hisana had found another way to redirect and sublimate. After all, it was clear that what Academy and Senbonzakura had offered Byakuya was another kind of outlet.

It must have been especially hard for Byakuya, Renji realized, growing up like he did. If Byakuya had been an Inuzuri rat, no one would have given a fuck what he was into. One of the older kids might have pulled him aside and given him a lecture about making sure everyone being safe and consensual, but, so long as nobody got hurt, that would have been the extent of any judgment. 

And, weirdly, accidentally killing someone with reiatsu pulse wouldn’t have caused much stir, either. Renji’d once beat a guy to death, so you know, worse shit went down. People in Inuzuri respected honest mistakes. 

Hell, they respected honest violence.

Instead, Byakuya had gotten all that shame piled on him. He probably got whispered about with words like unnatural, deviant, pervert—or whatever was bound to really hurt. It would have mattered to him, too, the way getting called a dirty dog always cut at Renji. 

And they sent him away? Right after his parents died? And where did he end up? Probably with someone stern and unloving and completely aware that he’d been sent off as punishment, someone who wanted to suck up to granddad, so, instead of being a relief to be away from all shame and whispers and rumors, it was worse. 

That was fucked up.

It was no wonder, really, Byakuya worked so hard to present such a perfect image to the world, and why, when he found Hisana, he told his family to go fuck themselves. Hard.

“You’re the first person who has truly understood and accepted this demon I bear for all that it is,” Byakuya’s voice remained flat, as though he was reciting something, but he turned to glance over his shoulder at where Renji sat. 

Their eyes met and Renji could see all the emotion Byakuya was holding back quivering in those storm-gray depths. 

So, Renji smiled.

It was just a little thing--just a ‘hey-you’re-okay, you-know-I-love-you-just-the-way-you-are’ smile and a pat on the seat of the couch, as if to say, ‘yeah, you can always come sit by me; you and me can be demons together.’

But it seemed to nearly break Byakuya. He sucked in a ragged breath, like he’d been starving for oxygen. He looked ready to crumble on the spot, and, briefly, he looked so vulnerable that Renji swore he could see the ghostly image of a frightened, confused, and desperately lonely teenager shadow across his face.

Byakuya turned away again, as Renji knew he’d have to. He was struggling with so much emotion, his whole body shook.

If he was anyone else, Renji would have gone over there and given him a hug.

Renji was having a hard time doing nothing, though. It was breaking his heart to be sitting on his hands, watching Byakuya suffer. But, touch... touch was so damn tricky. Even so, Renji found himself on his feet. He stood behind Byakuya. He lifted his hands and let them hover several inches from Byakuya’s shoulders. Renji closed his eyes. Carefully, delicately, he felt for the edges of Byakuya’s reiatsu, trying to use his own to smooth out jagged edges, support the crumbling bits unobtrusively… but he always sucked at kidō, didn’t he?

And when Byakuya drew in another ragged and harsh breath, Renji thought maybe he’d come on too strong. 

He would have backed off, but Renji could feel Byakuya’s more delicate and dexterous reiatsu cautiously entwining with his. Renji knew this sort of thing was possible, but he’d always lacked the skill for anything more than a blunt ‘hey, it’s me.’ But, Byakuya’s ability made up the difference and their breathing began to synchronize. 

Suddenly, Renji knew it was okay to let his hands come down softly. He could tell it was alright to massage stiff, tense shoulder muscles. Likewise, Byakuya relaxed into his touch. _Really_ relaxed. Renji felt as if something normally rigid were suddenly fluid, and it slipped all around him, like being truly lost in someone. He felt a little lightheaded and unsteady on his feet.

“Be gentle,” Renji whispered. “It’s my first time.”

Byakuya chuckled lowly. “No one would ever believe how much of a virgin you are, Renji Abarai.”

“Yeah, well, before you, there was a lot of things I’d never done,” Renji said with a little blush, thinking back. To think he’d never bottomed. He was an expert these days.

“Just relax,” Byakuya said. “Close your eyes. Let the flow take you like a river.”

_Oh, no,_ Renji thought. _Zen shit. I suck at this, too._

But, it felt good to be wrapped in Byakuya’s reiatsu, so he gave it a try. “You know,” he said, once his eyes were closed and he was trying to breathe evenly, “I was supposed to be giving you a hug, not getting a lesson in reiatsu manipulation.”

“This isn’t a lesson, Renji,” Byakuya said, leaning back into Renji’s body. “This is a ‘hug.’ It’s just deeper.”

Renji nodded, letting his arms slip from Byakuya’s shoulders to encircle his waist. Byakuya’s hands reached up and held on to his. They clung together, silently, exploring the feel of their reiatsu. 

Though Byakuya said it was a hug, it was really more like a kiss, Renji decided. There was give and take and a constant sort of swirly testing of boundaries and edges. Renji thought he could get lost in it, but every time he started to feel overwhelmed by Byakuya’s superior power, Byakuya pulled back and let Renji come to him.

It was actually kind of like sex, only they weren’t moving at all. It was nice, really--like Renji’s favorite parts of intimacy, like that first night they just slept together at the Hanami. Feeling Byakuya’s warmth, listening to him breathe, and smelling him--yet it was so much more, too--especially since Renji could sense Zabimaru and Senbonzakura joining in this dance of power and soul, give and take.

“Wow,” Renji said after a while, feeling almost breathless and exhausted.

“Hmmm,” Byakuya purred. “Just wait until we can do this while having sex.”

**Author's Note:**

> The very beginning scene is partly inspired by some cursory research into why it is customary to say "Moshi, moshi" when answering the phone in Japan. I came across this: 
> 
> http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Why_do_Japanese_people_say_hello_twice_moshi_moshi_when_they_answer_the_phone
>
>> _"When greeting someone on the phone in Japan, you will hear the set phrase "Moshi Moshi". This is done to prove that the other person on the phone is not a ghost._
>> 
>> _"According to Japanese lore, ghosts and kitsune (mischievous fox spirits) are incapable of repeating the word Moshi. Back in the day, evil ghosts and kitsune would sneak up behind unsuspecting people and say 'Moshi!'. The victim, thinking that they were being greeted by a fellow human being, would turn around and promptly have their soul stolen/eaten/etc. by the offending spirit. So the 'Moshi Moshi' folk remedy was created as the offending spirits could not say 'Moshi' twice. If you were greeted from behind with a 'Moshi!' you could reply with a 'Moshi moshi?' and if you received another 'Moshi Moshi!' in response you could be assured that you were not going to have your soul eaten by a hungry ghost."_  
> 
> 
> All of which might be bullshit, but, since it amused me, I put in a reference.
> 
> Also, thanks go to Josey (cestus) for her usual help. This time she kept all my plot threads straight for me, which is a pretty monumental feat. So, thank YOU, Josey!!


End file.
